


A Shadow's Greatest Rival

by courtingstars (FallingSilver)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Banter, Canon Related, Gen, Implied Kagami Taiga/Kuroko Tetsuya, Kurobas Week 2016, M/M, Mostly Gen, Pre-Slash, Some Swearing, Various Rivalries, basketball dorks, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7580890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingSilver/pseuds/courtingstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t take this idiot anymore.”</p><p>Kuroko and Kagami discuss who Kuroko’s greatest rival is. As it turns out, it's a surprisingly complicated subject. (Written for Kurobas Week 2016 on Tumblr, Day Two: Rivalries.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shadow's Greatest Rival

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in a hurry for Kurobas Week 2016 over on Tumblr, because I really wanted to contribute something to the event! **Please note:** This is a gen fic, but lots of rivalries/pairings are discussed (mainly AoKaga, AkaKuro, KiKuro, AoKi, MidoAka, KagaHimu, and TakaKuro). They can be viewed either as platonic, or something more. (The most obvious pairing in this story is some pretty heavily implied KagaKuro at the end.) Enjoy! And as always, thank you for reading.

“I can’t take this idiot anymore.”

Kagami shoved his phone in his schoolbag. He scowled, until his eyebrows resembled a pair of arrows twisting into a knot. Kuroko watched him from across their usual table at Maji Burger. He was sipping a milkshake, also as usual.

“And which idiot is that?” he said, in his customary monotone.

Kagami gave him a look. “Who do you think?”

Kuroko thought for a moment. (Or pretended to. It was mostly out of politeness.)

“Given how vigorously you were pressing buttons a moment ago, I would have to assume it was Aomine-kun,” he said.

“The one and only.” Kagami slumped lower in his chair, and let out a growl. “It’s just nonstop bullshit with this guy. I mean, yeah, whatever, I get it. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s itching for a rematch. But does he have to be such a _dick_ about it?”

Kuroko resisted the urge to laugh.

“From what I’ve observed, yes,” he said, with a sympathetic smile. “Were you trying to invite him to play some one-on-one?”

Kagami muttered something inaudible. Kuroko knew his partner well enough, however, to know that it translated to a yes.

“That’s kind of you,” he said. “I imagine he could use some friendly competition.”

Kagami grunted. “Nothing friendly about it. I just want to kick his ass.”

Kuroko hummed a vague agreement. He resisted the urge to point out that for two people who supposedly just wanted to beat each other at basketball, Kagami and Aomine spent a surprising amount of time together. They were even messaging each other. Which was impressive, considering how terrible Aomine was at returning mails. Kuroko knew that much from experience.

Still scowling, Kagami rose to his feet. He slung his bag over his shoulder, and carried his tray heaped with cheeseburger wrappers over to the trash. Kuroko shadowed him, putting his empty cup in the trash as well. They left Maji Burger, side by side.

The night all around them was glowing, with neon signs and street lamps—and far over their heads, beyond all the light pollution of Tokyo, the faint dusting of stars. Kuroko admired all of it, every flicker of brilliance. The screens of phones, as passersby chattered into them. The traffic lights, the passing cars and buses.

And the boy towering beside him, who always seemed to walk in a trail of light, even when it was dark outside.

“I’m certain he’ll come around,” Kuroko said gently. Just loud enough to catch Kagami’s attention. “I know he wants to play against you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kagami rolled his eyes. “He’ll probably send some dumb mail tomorrow, about how he’s bored so he’ll accept my challenge. Out of pity or the goodness of his heart or something. Dumbass.”

This time, Kuroko did laugh. A soft one, somewhat muffled by the night breeze. The air was still cold, but the faintest hint of warmth tiptoed on the wind. The first sign that winter was preparing to step aside for spring.

The Winter Cup was over, the first of Kuroko’s high school basketball career. Now practice would start again, for the next Interhigh tournament. Kuroko was looking forward to it. To playing alongside his partner again, and all his teammates from Seirin.

He looked back to Kagami, who still appeared distinctly annoyed.

“I suppose that’s the price of having a rival." A smile lurked on Kuroko's mouth. “Neither of you can let your guard down, even for a moment.”

He couldn’t help remembering all the competitions he’d witnessed between Kagami and Aomine. How apparently even his birthday dinner had been an opportunity for them to compete, at which one of them could eat the most fried chicken. (They had, of course, run out of chicken long before they could declare a winner.)

Kuroko eyed his partner meaningfully.

“He does think of you as his rival, you know,” he added. He sensed Kagami would want to know that fact. And he knew Aomine well enough to guarantee it. “Possibly his greatest one.”

Kagami gave a start. He glanced over, deep red eyes glinting, and then looked away again.

“I don’t know about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He’d never say so.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

“I guess.”

They kept walking, in a comfortable silence. They were nearing Kagami’s apartment. Kuroko already knew the route very well. He had memorized each sign, every slight crack in the sidewalk along the way.

“So who’s your greatest rival?” Kagami said.

Kuroko raised his head, startled. “Mine?”

“Yeah. I mean, if Aomine’s the guy I always want to beat the most… Then who do you want to go up against?”

Kuroko hesitated. He had to admit, he found the question a bit strange, in some way he couldn’t entirely explain.

“I’m not certain that I have someone like that,” he said.

“What, you don’t want to beat anyone? Come on.” Kagami sounded a bit gruff. “I know you can be kind of a fluffball, but that doesn’t sound like you.”

Kuroko raised his brows, and his right hand. And then he very calmly jabbed his partner in the side.

“Ow! What the hell.” Kagami flinched away, guarding his abdomen with both arms. “See, this is what I’m talking about.”

“I have plenty of people I want to beat,” Kuroko informed him. “But I don’t think it’s the same thing as your rivalry with Aomine-kun.”

“Why not?” Kagami paused. “Wait, hold up. Didn’t you say something once, about how you saw Kise as your rival?”

Kuroko blinked. He hadn’t realized that Kagami had paid much attention to that. He gazed ahead. The buildings and signs around him blurred into a gentle cloud of color. He recalled some of his first interactions with Kise, back at Teikou.

“I did,” he said, slowly. “And I do think of him that way, to some degree. We both joined the first string at Teikou around the same time. And I was his mentor. So as I said, I felt competitive toward him.”

He hesitated. Trying to think how best to explain it.

“But as I also said, I don’t think it’s exactly equal,” he said at last. “We don’t play the same position, for one thing. Unlike you and Aomine-kun. Also, while I believe Kise-kun appreciated my comment, I know he doesn't view me in the same way.”

He resisted the urge to add, _“Unlike how he views Aomine-kun, for example.”_

Kagami shrugged. “Yeah, guess not. He seemed more like he wanted you for a partner, when I met him.”

“Yes.” Kuroko’s mouth crooked upward. “Sadly, I’m already taken.”

Kagami laughed. That low, purring growl of a laugh that always made Kuroko smile slightly wider.

“Okay, well what about someone who plays the same position as you?” Kagami said. “I mean, it’s technically not a position, but…” He trailed off, apparently thinking. "Someone who specializes in passing, or whatever. Like that Mayuzumi dude.”

“He’s graduating,” Kuroko pointed out. “Also, I don’t think we’re very similar, in the end. No matter how similar our play styles may have been at one point.”

“Yeah. Huh.” Kagami’s expression brightened, like he’d just had an epiphany. “What about Akashi?”

Kuroko nearly stopped walking altogether. “What?”

“He’s a point guard. They basically specialize in passes, right?” Kagami said. “Same as you. And I dunno. He always kind of seemed like the most similar to you, out of all your teammates at Teikou. Plus… I think he sees you that way.”

Kuroko couldn’t help gaping at Kagami. “In what way?”

“You know. As a rival. Somebody he doesn’t want to lose to.”

“I—I don’t know.” Kuroko shook his head. “That’s… Akashi-kun did say something like that once, I believe, but…”

Kagami was grinning now. “You’re flattered as hell, aren’t you?”

Kuroko shook his head again. He didn’t know what to say, honestly.

The idea that Akashi Seijuurou could be his rival seemed, well, slightly ridiculous. If nothing else, it certainly felt arrogant, to say someone as incredibly skilled (and until recently, undefeated) as Akashi was his number one opponent. Kuroko still felt grateful to Akashi, for helping him discover his talent in basketball three years ago. Kuroko had created his style of Misdirection on his own. But he was still glad, and a bit awed, that Akashi had been right.

Kuroko knew that Akashi had said he never wanted to lose to him. And it was true that they played basketball similarly, in some ways. They had a comparable view of the sport, of the group aspect of it. Not to mention the overall role of a player with passing expertise… Still. Kuroko couldn’t help blushing, a little.

The truth was, “flattered as hell” was probably exactly how he should put it. Swearing and all.

“I—I suppose I see your point,” he finally managed to say. “But the situation between us is somewhat more complicated. I have no wish to lose to him, but… Even so, I am comfortable admitting that I could never hope to compete with Akashi-kun on my own. It’s just as I said to him, when we played against Rakuzan. I am a shadow. And I defeated him— _competed_ with him—by partnering with you.”

“He does the same thing, though,” Kagami said. “Helps his teammates reach their full potential. Right?”

“Maybe so,” Kuroko admitted. “But I’m not the strategist he is, by any means. And I don’t think I’m his most viable rival, either. What about Midorima-kun?”

“Well yeah, sure. There’s… whatever that is.” Kagami huffed. “That friendship is fraught for real. Wouldn’t it be weird, to have one of your closest friends competing with you all the time?”

Kuroko smiled. “I think they both enjoy it. Also, I’m not entirely sure you’re one to talk.”

He shot a pointed look toward a certain ring on a necklace, that dangled beneath Kagami’s uniform collar.

Kagami bristled. “That’s not the same thing!”

“No. But it’s certainly fraught enough,” Kuroko said, with a slight chuckle.

“Shut up.”

Kagami thrust his hands into his pockets. His lips were pinched to one side, in an embarrassed sort of grimace. (Kuroko couldn’t help thinking, with considerable humor, that it looked remarkably close to a pout.)

Silence lingered between them, as they made their way through a crosswalk. Kuroko was reminded of another crosswalk, closer to Seirin. The one where he first told Kagami about a certain decision he had made, about lights and shadows.

It seemed this was on Kagami’s mind, as well.

“Okay, well, what about someone who’s more like you?” he said. “You know, a guy who does the whole supporting shadow routine. But still specializes in passing.”

“I don’t know of anyone like that, apart from Mayuzumi-san. And as I said before—”

“Not him,” Kagami said. “I meant Takao.”

“Takao-kun?” Kuroko repeated.

“Yeah, think about it. He’s a point guard, and an expert passer. But he’s not the ace of his team, like Akashi is. Or Midorima, or any of those guys. His role is a lot more like yours. Besides, I know I remember a heated rivalry happening between you two,” Kagami said, looking almost smug. He barked a laugh, then added, “Well, as heated as either of you ever gets, anyway.”

Kuroko blinked. He was recalling their games against Shuutoku, and the difficulty of countering Takao’s Hawk Eye. He recalled Takao’s words back then, the smirk that had sharpened his mouth as he spoke:

_“You and I are the same kind of person… So I guess I could say I hate you, because you’re like me.”_

And Kuroko recalled something else. He recalled watching Shuutoku play against Rakuzan, and that unbelievable pass, the one that Takao had sent to Midorima. It was true, he thought. Takao was a great deal like him. He didn’t mind having a partner, one who was generally regarded as more talented. He was willing to support that person, in any way possible. (And in ways many people would have thought _impossible_.) The shadow, in other words, to Midorima’s light.

Kuroko gave a slow nod.

“I do consider him a rival,” he said. “And a very gifted one at that. But I don’t know if I could say that he’s the one person I want to beat the most.”

He adjusted the strap of his school bag.

“To be perfectly honest, I even consider you my rival at times, Kagami-kun,” he said.

One of Kagami’s forked brows tipped upward. “Oh yeah? I seem to remember that a certain someone can’t keep up with me one-on-one. Even when we’re just screwing around in a park.”

Kuroko resisted the urge to tease him a bit, about the way he had phrased that.

“Yes, that’s true,” he replied. “I don’t see you as my rival in that sense. But I think of everyone on our team at Seirin as my rivals, to some degree.”

Kagami looked confused. Kuroko drew a silent breath, preparing to explain. To say something he had often thought about his teammates, over the course of the past year. Something he’d been wanting to say, for a while.

“All of you always work so diligently to improve,” he said earnestly. “You’ve constantly inspired me to become a better player, better than I ever thought I could be. And I want to continue to earn the right to play alongside you all. Which means I certainly don’t want to lose to any of you in that respect.”

He smiled up at Kagami, who looked startled.

“You really do say some embarrassing things,” he mumbled, with a faint chuckle. “Anyway. Guess you just have a lot of rivals, then.”

“Yes, it seems I do,” Kuroko said, thoughtfully.

He peered up at the night sky, at the far-off starlight that glittered above the high-rise Tokyo buildings. It was nice, Kuroko thought. To have so many worthy and interesting opponents, in the sport he loved most. It was even better, that he was able to call so many of these opponents his friends.

“I suppose it’s still possible that someone could be my greatest rival,” he added, in a quiet tone. “A person I would never want to lose to.”

Kagami studied him, with apparent interest. “Yeah?”

Kuroko met his gaze calmly.

“Are you interested in anyone, Kagami-kun?” he said. “Romantically, I mean.”

Kagami’s jaw dropped. He jumped back, like a small explosion had just gone off beneath his sneakers.

“What?” he sputtered. “What in the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Kuroko gave a slight shrug. “I was simply curious.”

The edges of Kagami’s mouth twitched. His face was changing color, to a shade shockingly close to his hair, and he looked like he was struggling to get enough oxygen. He spent a few minutes just stammering, incoherent things along the lines of “what the hell kind of question is that” and “why are you always changing the subject, you idiot.” Then he stomped on ahead, toward his apartment building. Kuroko followed behind.

When they reached his apartment, Kagami still wasn’t looking at Kuroko. But he opened the door, and waited.

Kuroko smiled at him, and asked very politely, “Is it all right if I come in?”

And Kagami mumbled the same yes that he always did. So Kuroko went inside, like always, and asked pardon for the intrusion as he took off his shoes. And Kagami turned on all the lights, until the apartment was bathed in the warm, familiar brilliance that Kuroko had come to love.


End file.
